Eighth-grade Avengers
by agonizingapple98
Summary: After being adopted by his aunt, Bruce goes to middle school, meeting all of his friends, and some enemies. T for later on... First fic
1. Quiet reputation

A/N: Ok, guys! This is my very first fanfiction, and I know that this is an unoriginal topic, but I guess I should add my own twist to it! The story should be updated every week or so, unless I say otherwise. AND YES, THE AVENGERS STILL HAVE THEIR POWERS! Now, without any further ado… here I go!

**omgosh I forgot the disclaimer!- Unfortunately, I own nothing associated with Marvel. Tear.**

* * *

Everyone hates being the new kid. Heck, having new parents, or should I say just being adopted was really tough. Living with his aunt, Susan, Bruce Banner was adjusting to living in a new environment. He was young and scrawny for an eighth grader.

"Bruce! Wake up! It's the first day at your new school!" His aunt yelled, running past his room and swinging his door open. A head full of brown curls emerged from the covers. Seeming a bit startled from the door banging on the wall, he began breathing a little hard. "BRUUUCE! I'M LATE FOR WORK! YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO WALK!" Susan shouted as the front door slammed behind her.

Groaning, Bruce groggily crawled out of bed and put on a solid gray flannel and his purple pants. After slipping on a pair of dogged tennis shoes, Bruce headed downstairs. Sauntering into the kitchen, he read the sticky note on the counter. Ugh. No breakfast. Bruce sat down and took a banana from the fruit bowl and packed his backpack with a binder, pencils, and… that's it, really.

He almost forgot his glasses. Nervous as ever, Bruce reviewed what he needed to do to keep his reputation quiet, given that he has really bad anger issues. That's why he transferred to a new school a while back. But this one? He was scared,even though he should've been used to it. Putting on his indigo backpack, he walked out onto the gloomy streets of New York. The school was only a couple blocks down the street, but it felt like miles. Finally, he arrived all by his lonesome.

There were many groups of teens. Bruce was staring all around in awe. He hadn't seen this since he was in the orphanage. Forgetting he was living reality, he bumped right into a short, pale-ish boy with sleek, black hair reaching his neck. Immediately startled, Bruce backed away. "I'm sorry… I guess I kinda, um, trailed off, I gue-" the buffer boy, standing next to the one he ran into, pulled his arm up. "Watch it, punk." After the Executioner, Loki's 'bodyguard' (or something like that, anyways) dropped him, Bruce looked mortified. Well, at least nobody was looking. Until he hit the ground.

Suddenly, a brown-haired boy wearing a black and purple tee started dying. It hit the rest of the student body like dominoes. Bruce blushed as people fell to the ground. From laughter. There went his 'quiet' reputation. Loki, the one he had accidentally bumped into, glanced over at him. "That will teach you to mess around with me." He muttered. Bruce's vision was faintly tinged green. No. Not now, not today, not ever… He thought. That whole fiasco took only about a minute or so, but it felt like millenias. The bell rang and everyone who wasn't already in the library left. Bruce's face was a bright pink hue (maybe some green…?). Tears began to fall down his cheeks. He got up and was headed to the office for his schedule.

Suddenly, the very boy who had caused the great laughing syndrome, if that's what it was, walked over to him, offering a hand. "Hey… I'm -" Bruce's grip tightened significantly harder on his backpack. "WHAT." He barked, just barely able to hold back a growl. The boy jumped back, pulling away his hand. "I-I was just gonna say sorry for laughing at you. That wasn't right." Walking into the school office with Bruce, the boy sighed. "There you are, sir. The brunette officemate looked up. "Clinton Francis Barton!" Clint sighed, humiliated by his own mother working in the office. "Yes, dearest Mom?!" He asked, bearing another suffering sigh. "Show this young lad 'round, would ya?" "Yess, mom." Clint grumbled.


	2. Math class

"So… that's your… mom?" Bruce asked, surprised. Clint stopped at is locker. "Yep. It sucks because I can't get away with anything." Bruce didn't look up from his schedule. "Well, at least you have a mom." he muttered, not expecting the boy next to him to hear it. "You don't have a mom?" Clint whispered. Bruce looked up. "You heard that?" Clint nodded.

As they walked up the stairs, there was a long, awkward silence. "Hey, I never got your name." Clint asked, stopping by his locker. "Umm… well, my name's Bruce… and you're..?" Clint looked up from trying to enter his combination (he was failing at it.). "Clint. And I'm going to show you around the school. Where do you wanna start?" Bruce looked confused. "...My locker… I guess…" He said as he handed Clint his schedule. "Locker 718?! Wow, you're right next to Tony! You lucky dog!" Clint practically shouted.

Bruce jerked back in fear. "Who's Tony?" Clint's jaws dangled open. "You don't know who Tony Stark is?! He's only the most amazing friend ON EARTH! And you have a locker right underneath him! Soooooo lucky!" He explained as he opened his locker and got his math textbook. He showed Bruce his locker and how to open it. "Hey, we only have two minutes left!" Clint urged Bruce to grab his binder and some pencils and hurry up so they could get to class.

They rushed down the hallway. "So you have math class with me, too?" Bruce asked. "Uh-huh." Rushing into the crazy, rambunctious classroom, Bruce sat down in a seemingly isolated area. But, on his right was a boy. Tony. And he was talking to Clint. After eyeballing the boy in the gray flannel, he nudged Clint's desk. The boy in purple shades looked over. "Isn't that the boy from this morning? The one who was, like, thrown onto the ground or something?" Clint nodded. "Yeah. I'm his tour guide."

"He seems a little… No offense, but he looks like a…" Tony leaned in closer. "...nerdy wimp." Clint and Tony turned to Bruce to see him sliding in his chair to avoid being hit by any more paper airplanes. Tony looked back over to Clint, unimpressed. Clint shrugged. "Hey, from what he's told me, his life has been pretty hectic." Tony rolled his eyes. "If he even has a life." Clint glared at him uneasily. "Well, I think that since you haven't met him yet, you shouldn't be judging." Tony sighed. "Okay, fine, yeesh. I'll interact with the low-life." Clint smirked. "That's more like it."

Just as Tony started talking to Bruce, the math teacher, Mr. Langley, walked into the room. "Class! Has! STARTED!" He yelled as the class simultaneously cheered up a storm. The man in dreads took a bow and stepped onto his desk with the roll-taking portfolio in his hand. "Okay, everyone. Take a seat. Roll is about to be taken." the cheering calmed.

"Ok… ok… So. Here we go. Arex." "Here." "Alvo?" "Present." "Arugoh." "Howdy!" "Axce." "Guten Tag." "...Banner?" "..here." He practically whispered. "Barton." "I'm the man!" "Buck." "Potatoes." "DeLaine?" "Absent." The majority of the class answered. "Uhuhh… Ok. Evax!" "Chao!" "Laufeyson? Late as usual. Manter?" "Would if I could, bi-" "OK! Odinson." "HERE I AM!" Thor yelled. "Rogers?" "Here, sir." "Romanoff?" Natasha didn't speak, she instead raised her hand. "Stark?" "What's good?" "Zach?" "Ayyye." "And finally, Wright." "Check meowt!"

"Aight, class. Today, we're learning about… Drumroll please…." Most of the class did a drumroll. "Trigonometry! Ha! JK. We're doing algebra 1. Oh, and if you didn't notice, we have a new student. Mr. Banner, come introduce yourself, if you like." Bruce slowly walked up to the front of the class. "Umm… hi… I'm Bruce." Mr. Langley smiled. "Where are you from? "...an orphanage in Dayton in Ohio…" Steve and Natasha gave each other a mind reading look of grief and concern, and Tony and Clint frowned upon this, as well as Thor. "Well… Umm, what's your favorite color?" "...yellow…" "Subject?" "Math and science…" "Here, fill this out." He gave Bruce the 'new kid sheet'.

"Now, class, up on the whiteboard is a college question, discrete math. Can any of you solve this equation?" Bruce's hand immediately shot up, but was the only one in the air. "Come give it a try, Bruce." Bruce walked up and stepped onto the stool. It took him only a minute to solve it. "The result is 1 ¼, reduced and simplified." Placing the cap onto the dry erase marker, he looked up to see a teacher and his class with their mouths hanging open. Bruce gave a shy smile. Suddenly, Tony started clapping, followed by Mr. Langley and the class as Bruce walked back to his seat with his head hanging low.


	3. Nutrition?

Hey guys, so my sad excuse for chapter 3 is here. I really don't know why it's called nutrition if nobody's eating anything. I think the plot will begin to become more... actual... in chapter chapter sucks because I'm trying my hardest to maintain straight A's in classes. Luckily, it's the weekend, so I have more time to write and post. AND THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING! This is amazing!- *****THE STORY WILL BEGIN TO GET SOMEWHAT INTENSE WITH LANGUAGE THANKS TO TONY AND CLINT BICKERING ON TEXT BRIEFLY. IF YOU FIND THOSE TYPES OF THINGS OFFENSIVE, THEN DON'T READ BEYOND THIS POINT. THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT.*****

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You said you were in eighth grade? Did you mean, like, eleventh or something?! I wasn't able to do that kind of math until 12th grade. Do you know you could be, like, a child prodigy?" The mathematician practically roared in astonishment. He had pulled Bruce out of the classroom.

"I'm going to get that boy to do my homework." Tony whispered to Clint. "I doubt he'd appreciate that, Stark. He's not that clueless." Clint remarked, adding an eye roll to it. "I'll pay him like, a hundred bucks a week." The boy wearing purple shades raised an eyebrow. "Okay, a month." "I think he can tell when somebody just so happens to be using him. As I said a second ago, he's not dumb."

Tony gave off a trademark smirk. "But no one said I couldn't play dumb." Suddenly, Steve (sitting in front of them, eavesdropping) turned around. "Tony, what are you planning now?" He asked. "Well aren't you a nosy little neighbor? Back to ruin my fun again?" Tony asked snidely.

"I think you're mistaking fun for getting expelled, pal. What is this, your third school?" Steve corrected. "Steve, sonny, quit trying to roast me because we all know you're not anywhere near RiceGum's terms of flaming anyone." And with that, Stark made a cheesy, sarcastic grin.

Steve grumbled for having nothing witty to snap back at him. "That's right. Go fuck yourse-" Tony was about to finish saying his sentence when he turned to see Mr. Langley staring into his soul. "...Hi...Mr. Langley…" Tony said, trying not to sound mortified. "You were saying?"

"..." Tony was speechless. He had gotten caught. "Mr. Anthony, you are one of my most advanced math students in the whole school, and yet you choose to get into trouble? You have much more potential in you, so use it for the right thing. Come on, man."

Practically every pair of eyes were staring at Tony. Mr. Langley walked up to the head of the classroom. "Your attention should be up here now." Majority of the class turned their heads as the rest of class.

The class was dismissed to nutrition period, which was fifteen minutes. Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Bruce all sat down at a table. Clint was… "busy", to put it in his words. Thor went to go find his younger brother and ask him to quit being mischievous, though the answer was always no, as well as a slap across the face.

Tony sat down next to Bruce. "Hi." He said, trying to start a conversation. "Umm… hi…" Bruce muttered. "So… I heard you're really smart." Bruce gave a shy smile. "I guess..." Suddenly, Tony's phone rang. He got a text. "Hold on a second." he said, getting out of the table.

 **clint_ :** Tony wyd? Stop

asking him

 **Tony-srrrk.03:** y should I

 **clint_ :** BC thats using

him

 **Tony-srrrk.03:** you honestly act like he'll give

a damn

 **clint_ :** hmm lets think

about this… maybe because he

will?

 **Tony-srrrk.03:** guess what? I dont give not

even half of a shit because i do what I

want

 **clint_** : Tony you can

be a real bitch sometimes.

 **Tony-srrrk.03** : I thank you dearly for quite

a compliment

"Sorry about that." Tony said, walking back to the table. "So… I was wondering if you could, if possible, help me with my math?" Tony pleaded. "...sure, I guess… I'm not really great at teaching…" Frankly, himself was the only one who knew why.

"Thanks man. Where do you want to meet up? My house?" Tony asked excitedly. "Why not?" Bruce shouted over the bell for next class. Walking to Clint, he asked where the band room was.


	4. Band Class

"Wellll, here's the band room." Clint sighed as he opened the door to a raging storm of instruments' sounds and kids chattering. Suddenly, they stopped. The band teacher had silenced them.

"OK, class, do all of you have your sheet music for Swan Lake Scene Finale?" "...Yeah." Some random kid shouted in the back. "Ok, instruments up." All mouthpieces, from reeds to brass, were in someone's mouth.

"One, two, three, four, one, two, ready, go." A beautiful sound filled the room. Every single note was in harmony. Bruce's eyes widened to the music echoing across the room. "I have to play that good?" He whispered to Clint as he nudged him. "Chill, it's too easy once you learn." Clint cheered.

The other four caught up with them, panting and whatnot. They had just run a whole courtyard, after all. "Are we…. too…late?" Tony panted. "I fear we are, Tony." Thor replied, catching the others attention as Ms. Delilah shuffled her feet to the small forming crowd.

"You're all, with the exception of these two young men," she pointed her finger at Clint and Bruce. "Tardy. Hopefully you brought your instruments, right?" She said, letting them in.

Tony pulled out a clarinet, followed by Natasha taking out her flute, Steve and his trumpet, Thor and his trombone. "What do you play?" Bruce whispered, finding a seat. Clint smirked as he pulled out a music book and two drumsticks.

"Now, class, we have a new student. Bruce, come introduce yourself to us, if you will." Walking up again, he gave a basic introduction to himself. Suddenly, the teacher began throwing random questions at him. "Favorite color?" "Yellow." "Outfit?" Bruce shrugged that one off. Why would he care about clothes?

"Food?" "...falafel." "Book?" "The Hunger Games." "Movie?" "...Zootopia." This is where he felt it got a little too far. "Any medical conditions?" Suddenly, a memory sparked in his mind. A very, very emotionally painful one, too.

"...borderline…. personality…...disorder…." He said as his eyes violently flashed from brown to green to brown again. Clint, Tony and Steve shared a look reading: You saw that, right? The trio nodded at each other, concluding their thoughts on that for a bit.

"What instrument are you interested in choosing?" Bruce shrugged to Ms. Delilah's question. "The flute, I guess. I really don't know." Ms. Delilah pointed at Natasha. "Yes?" Show this young sir to use a flute." "Ok." She said.

Grabbing her flute, book, and Bruce's wrist, she pulled him onto the stage, which was also in the cafeteria. After getting out a couple of chairs and music stands, they sat down. Natasha pulled out a spare flute.

"Here." She said, practically shoving it into his arms. "Assemble it. Like this." She slowly showed Bruce how to assemble a flute. "...what now?" Bruce questioned. "Play it. Like this." sitting in her playing position, played her Bb (B flat, for those who don't understand. When I type in # next to a letter, it is a sharp, not a hashtag. And lowercase b is a flat when next to a letter as well. Just clarifying.)

Her tone flourished from dull to bouncy. When she went back down the scale, it was even bouncier than when she went up the scale. "When you play, tongue like this. She made a string of air come from her lips. "Now you try." Bruce it his lip up to his mouthpiece.

Copying Natasha, he blew into the little hole. A solid sound came out. "What note was that?" He asked, as he put his flute down. "That's a Bb. Now try playing a higher note." "Umm, okay… I'll try."

As they played and read notes together, they finally decided they were ready. As if she was on cue, Ms. Delilah walked in on the pair packing away their instruments. "Well, I've showed him." Ms. Delilah frowned. "Don't pack up, I want to see what you can-" the bell's echo practically blasted off of the walls.

"Well it looks like we have to go, byyyyyeee!" Natasha yelled as she pulled Bruce and herself back into the band room, grabbing their things before the old lady could spot a trace of them again. "Go to Clint. You're about to go to language arts. Bruce groaned about this; it was his least favorite class.

 **A/N: Guys, I know it's been like, what, three weeks now? But, being in 7th grade is hard. Okay? So, 5 reviews (I'm not including my message)? Already? Thanks guys! Also, I'm open for story ideas, besides this one, so just PM me if you want a new story. Toodles- agonizingapple98**


	5. Authors' Note

**A/N:** Hey guys! I know it's been quite a while since I've been on, and I'm very sincerely sorry for keeping you guys waiting. As school moves on, I need to prioritize, but after my homework, I usually work on the story. I promise you a nice big chapter in about a week or so. I may split up the chapter into sections. For those of you reading this, thanks for staying patient and sane. Next chapter will probably be out in about a week. ALSO, I'm open for ideas for stories. Just PM me a writing prompt and it will most likely be done.

 **DANKE** **(thanks) TO EVERYONE LISTED BELOW:**

 **Selfish. Shipper**

 **Loki mumu**

 **Guest #1**

 **Guest#2**

 **Freedom to Rarity**

 **these folks have reviewed and/or favorited the story. Thanks sincerely to you all!**

 **~agonizingapple98**


	6. Language Arts Class pt 1

**A/N: Hey you guys. I know this chapter is reaaaaaaaalllllllyyy short, but it's more-so an intro to the next chapter, which is on the way. In the meantime, enjoy this mini-chapter.**

* * *

"I'm sure you'll enjoy this class, Bruce." Clint said. "Something like that." Bruce uttered, seeming adgitated. Clint tilted his head. " _You_ don't like _reading_?" He asked, surprised. "Ohh, no. Reading's ok, but it's just not something I have time to do. But writing? No, no, no, no, no. Not your type. I have a preference to science and math."

Clint shrugged as he opened the door to Mr. Charles' classroom. "So I see we have….. a new student with us." The old man said, as if his words were being chopped up by a katana. "Would you be so kind as to…. Introduce… yourself, if you would?"

"Uhh, sure." Bruce sighed as he placed his binder down. He felt a bit impatient about this class, let alone language arts in general. It took time, which was something Bruce seldom had. After introducing himself, he got a seat assigned next to Tony and Natasha.

"Now, class….. take out a piece of loose leaf notebook paper. You are about to begin writing…. a narrative about a day in the life of…. yourself. Preffably about today. Now get ready." Mr. Charles said stately.

Bruce nudged Tony, whom glanced over upon the elbow in his ribcage. "May I borrow a piece of paper?" He mouthed. Tony slid him a couple pieces of notebook paper, and the class were off.

The room was silent as their pencils raced across their papers. In a matter of 15 or so minutes, Tony had finished his essay. Setting his pencil on top of his papers and waiting, a sudden question popped into his mind.

"We're not reading these aloud... are we?" Tony asked, hoping they _WEREN'T_. As much as a narcissist he was, even for a child, his corage was hanging low and he just couldn't scrape up the courage to read his diary, technically, in front of the whole class.

"Why indeed we are… Mr. Stark." Mr. Charles responded like a turtle eating honey. Tony groaned as he edited his paper some. He got prepared to read his paper aloud.

 **A/N: OK, so maybe I do exaggerate my real teachers' personalities just a tad in this story...… But anyways, Tony's essay is going first on the list, and that's next chapter! It will be in his POV, [point of view for the math and science people like me] and it will be epic. ALSO, thanks to Courtney601 for not only favoriting, but following this story and just my account in general! Good on you!**


	7. Authors' Note 2

**A/N: Hey guys, I absolutely, positively promise that Tony's essay will be out by Monday. School has been getting to me with tests and everything. (Cough STUPID CLASS NOVEL TESTS cough ahem), as well as extracurricular activities (gag SOCCER, BAND choke cough). But, I have it written down and everything, I just need to proofread and type it. Hang in there, and be glad you're not a 7th grader!**

 **P.S.- Does anyone have any pet peeves? I'm in a competition with my friend and I need some to win the bet. (I have to annoy him.) Any suggestions?**

 **~agonizingapple98 :P**


	8. Language Arts Class pt 2

Tony sighed miserably and dragged himself to the front of the class. He held his paper directly in front of his face. He began to speak in a dull, monotone voice. Mr. Charles slowly walked up to the boy.

"Mr. Stark, I… believe that your paper…. is not the classroom with your peers." Tony sighed once again as he lowered the paper. ' _You try getting a cold read, if you may?'_ He noted mentally.

Tony glanced at the clock. ' _Seven minutes left of class, this'll be easy.'_ He thought.

Tony began to read in a monotone voice again. "Hello, fellow peers. This is Tony Stark speaking, and you are about to witness a day in the life of everyone's favorite narcissist. No, not Donald Trump, idiots. I mean me, Anthony Edward Stark."

"Now, I wake up at precisely 5:45 A.M. and get dressed in my casual outfit. Then, I go downstairs to finish the homework that I was supposed to do yesterday, while Jarvis, my (sigh) _parents'_ faithful butler (and father (well, that's what it seems like to me, at least)) makes the best darn French toast on Earth."

""Here you are, young sir, your french toast and eggs." Jarvis said stately. "Thanks, J. You're like the father I never had. I responded. As if he were on cue, my _father_ , that fugly…. um, explicit, decided to waltz down the stairs and _ruin_ my day just by showing up. To make the scenario _worse_ , he sat in the seat _directly_ across from me."

"Oh, and if you surprisingly haven't noticed, my ' _father_ ' so-called is an absolute felony to everyone on Earth. …..Well, at least to _me_. If my dad really loved me, he would actually take time off of his job and - god forbid - quit neglecting and abusing me and actually _acknowledge_ my _existence_."

"But, anyways, my ' _dad_ ' glanced up from his newspaper and sipped his coffee. After a staring contest that seemed to be ions, he finally spoke. "Son." I stared him down, shoving invisible daggers into his forehead. "Howard." I simply refuse to call him father, because that's not what he acts like."

"I rush to finish my homework and eat my breakfast. I swiftly pass through my algebra as if it were the simplest form of arithmetic. Just as I pack up my work and rinse off my plate, my mom comes downstairs. My mom truly is wonderful person, even though she doesn't stop my 'father' from doing stuff to me."

"It is now 6:30, so I smile and wave goodbye to Jarvis. I give my mom a loving hug. All my sonofan …explicit.. gets is a glare."

"As I walked to school, I stopped by Clint's house with Natasha. Clint walks out as I check my watch. _'Right on time.'_ I thought as-"

The bell interrupted his very words. A feeling of relief spread through Tony like a wildfire. ' _Phew._ ' He thought as he gathered his belongings. Just before he left, though, Mr. Charles called him over. "Mr. Stark, you will be finishing your essay next class." He said sternly.

"Yes, Mr. Charles." He sighed once more as he caught up with Clint and Bruce, running out of the door.

 **A/N: happy Columbus Day, everyone! I have just now finished some of Tony's essay. I also helped my friend dye his hair in a freaking** ** _gazebo_** **because he doesn't know how to do it himself. But, that** ** _is_** **what friends are for, right? Anyways, I have a soccer game tomorrow, so do not expect the next chapter to be posted because we're traveling! The wheels on the bus** ** _do_** **go round and round, of course. Wish The Deadshots (it's a working title, okay?) luck, or should I say break a leg?**

 **~agonizingapple98 :p**

 **P.S.- Send in those pet peeves!**


	9. Just Some Quick Announcements

**A/N: Hey guys, I just wanted to make some announcements! I may or may not be posting this weekend because we've got a huge homecoming parade, bonfire, as well as a soccer game the following day (we're playing the same team again. Last time we lost by 1. Gasp. Scandal.) so do not expect a new chapter! I'm sorry, but that most likely will happen next week.**

 **GUESS WHAT TIME IT IIIIISSS!**

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANOUNCEMENTS! (cue the cheering track)**

 **Thanks to** **Gleekandpotterhead3902 for favoriting me and my stories, and following me!**

 **Thanks to** **amichalap for favoriting!**

 **Thanks to all 8 (it says 10, but two of them are mine.) of you guys for reviewing! You really make my day! And thank you all for keeping up with my messy schedule!**

 **STAY SANE, MY FRIENDS! ~ agonizingapple98**


	10. Yoooooo I'm not dead

**A/N: I AM NOT DEAAAAAAADDDDDDD! I'm just very busy with school. I've got a science project, which, btw, is a test grade, a math project, which is** ** _also_** **a test grade, a class novel to finish, a world geography test, and a band concert to practice for. PLUS I have soccer. I will try my hardest to update, but I can't make any promises. Thank you for those who actually are reading this.**

 **Tata for now ~ agonizingapple98**


	11. Please help me

Hey. Sorry for not updating for like... a month... school and shit. Actually, I feel like I'm being bullied.

This guy in my band class... he plays bass clarinet so I basically have to deal with him every other day... Well, as you may know, I have anger issues and this boy... this ANNOYING _AF_ boy _..._ was pissing me off because my mom teaches him and he likes to rub it in. So I was like, "Can you shut up? I know!" and then the annoying kid was like, "Ohh make me!" and I had asked him nicely like 5 times.

So I went like, "SHUT UP!" and then the bully guy just butted his head into my business and was like, "How about you do us all a favor and you both shut up?!" and then I was like, "How about _you_ go mind your _business_? BYE!" and then he went like...

 _ **"**_ _ **BITCH?!**_ _ **"**_

Sebastian, my friend, was there, too. Later, he told him off but apparently, the bully shut him down. When I was playing my baritone horn, I saw Sebastian walk off all fast with tears in his eyes. He normally wouldn't cry over something if it didn't hurt him so much, and he is a savage, if I do say so myself. He can really throw a roast. That's how I knew he was truly hurt.

Later in class today, I missed one _measly little note,_ and he went off on me. After the bell rang, I was walking on the 1st floor to World Geography and he went off on me again. So I said, " **_You know FUCKING WHAT?! I PRACTICE AN HOUR EVERY DAMN DAY! GO OFF ON YOUR OWN DAMN SELF BECAUSE I'M SICK OF YOUR SHIT!_** "

But, yeah, give me some advice please. It would really help.


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